


Make You Break Down (Shatter Your Illusions of Love)

by Lou (Larrygivesmeheartattacks)



Category: One Direction
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Betrayal, Clit Stimulation, Genderbend, Girls eating out girls, Happy Ending, Major character death - Freeform, Masturbation, Misogyny, Rimming, Slight misogyny and Islamophobia, Sort of Dom Louis, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, side character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larrygivesmeheartattacks/pseuds/Lou
Summary: She turns back around, and orders another glass. Her mind drifts as the bartender prepares the drink, and she only snaps back when it's slammed down in front of her. Just as soon as the glass hits the counter, a nimble hand shoots out and picks it up."Sorry love, but I think I need this one more than you do," the woman from earlier mutters into her ear from where she's reaching over her shoulder. Harry shivers when her warm breath fans over her ear. "Sleazy men?" asks the captain, biting her lip.The woman snorts into her cup, "If that was the only problem I had, I would be in an orphanage, having a tea party instead of here."





	Make You Break Down (Shatter Your Illusions of Love)

The sky is breathtakingly beautiful, absolutely littered with hues of golden caramel and candy floss pink. Across the horizon, the sun bids the world adieu, slowing slinking down and out of sight. The waves, a shocking cerulean blue, lap lazily at the peeling, rotting wood of the dock. 

The sharp tang of salt assaults the girl’s nose, the taste permeating her taste buds and leaving her mouth sour and bitter. She stands on the port, staring out into the stretch of water, calloused fingers twitching nervously against the hem of her shirt. The young woman takes a deep breath, teeth nibbling at her dry, cracked bottom lip. 

Turning, she makes her way down the dock, muddied leather boots tapping rhythmically on the wood. She walks through the boringly empty streets, lips pursed as she glanced at the occasional drunk passerby. Eventually, the pirate reaches her desired destination: a small, grimy bar called The Bloodied Hen. 

Pushing open the rusted, metal doors, Harry steps into the room. She takes in her surroundings, nose wrinkling slightly at the smell of body odor and alcohol. The bar is overwhelmingly crowded with pirates, sailors, and the occasional lost looking merchant, all holding goblets full of watery, piss-yellow beer. The room itself is dark, lit with little stubs of candle, giving the room a somber, ghostly air. 

Spotting her target, the pirate calmly walks over and sits down on the ripped, plush red chair, turning over to stare at her prey. Louis Walsh, known to all as Wild-Eyed Walsh, was a short, old man. His hair was a snowy white, teeth brown and rotten. His name came from his fake glass eye that spun lazily around in its socket.

Wild-Eyed Walsh grins, muddy fangs on display. “Aye! ‘arry, long time no see. What are ye doin’ here? I haven’t seen you since-,” He trails off, a small smirk still on his face. “Well, ye know. Such a loss, I might say. Grimmy had potential. Who’s your Cap’n now? The irish one? Or perhaps, the paki?” He spits out, disgust clear in his tone.

Harry glares at him, teeth ensnared in a snarl. “Don’t call ‘im that. I won’t allow you to talk shit about any of my crew. And, don’ even pretend like you gave a damn about Nick. After all, it was your captain that killed him. Speaking of, where is the bloody bastard?”

Walsh gapes at Harry for a moment, lips contorting into a circle, before letting out a loud cackle. “You? They made you cap’n? But you’re a sodding woman! A woman couldn’t run a ship. They shouldn’t even be on a boat in the first place. After all, we all know the only reason Grimshaw kept you with him was because he needed a hole to stick his cock in, and he was too prideful to do it with a man.”

Harry scowls at the man, brown, shiny curls bouncing daintily on her head, as she stands up and pulls out her dagger, pointing it threateningly at the other pirate. “Shut it, Walsh. I didn’t ask for your bloody opinion. I jus’ wanna know where Cowell is.”

Walsh opens his mouth to speak, before closing it and coughing. Harry is just about to point her dagger at him again and demand that he tell her, when she hears someone clear their throat behind her. Groaning, she turns around and rolls her eyes, just as Simon Cowell takes a step forwards.

Simon Cowell, captain of The Bloody Baron, leered sinisterly at the young pirate, golden teeth shining in the dim light of the candles. His marred face was littered with purpling, grotesque scars. On his head sat a large, maroon hat, covering his brown, straw like hair. 

“You called?” Captain Cowell asks, licking his lips. “Ah, young Harry! You be lookin’ well. I must ask… why are you here? If yer looking’ for another ship to board, I’ve got plenty of room.”

Harry narrows her eyes at the man, brushing a curl out of her face. “That’s a very generous offer. But, that’s not necessarily why I’m here. I’ve got a proposition for you,” She trails off, quirking an eyebrow at Cowell. 

Cowell lets out a small laugh, amusement etched onto his scarred face. “A proposition, ay? Well, by all means, go ahead,” he says, walking closer and closer to the young pirate. “I’d love to hear it.” he purrs, rank breath fanning over her face, chunks of spit hitting Harry right in the middle of her forehead.

“I need gold, and I need it fast. I’d get it on my own, of course, if I had time to find a ship to steal from. I’m willing to do,” She pauses, and bats her long eyelashes at him, biting her lip suggestively. “Anything for it.” 

Captain Cowell smirks and nuzzles his face into her collarbone, sucking gently. He chuckles softly at her small gasp, before pulling away. “What makes you think that I want you?”

Harry tongues at the side of his neck, grinding herself into his crotch. “I can tell that you want me,” She grabs his hand, and places it on her breast. “I want you too. So, what do you say?”

Simon smirks and squeezes her breast gently. “How much gold do you need?” He asks, hands roaming down to her ass and pinching. 

Harry fights the urge to gag at his hands on her, instead opting to moan and lick her lips seductively. “Not much. I promise, I’m giving you the deal of a lifetime. Please, take me. Right now, we can walk over to the brothel and rent a room. I want you so bad.” She begs.

“Mm, alright. Such a slut for me, ay? Lead the way.” He murmurs into her ear. She nods, and takes his hand, leaving poor Wild- Eyed Walsh sitting dumbfounded in his chair.

The two pirates make their way over to the brothel, Cowell pawing at her curves the whole way. When they finally get into their room, Harry pushes him down onto the cheap, wooden bed, springs creaking loudly. 

“Close your eyes. I’ll undress. I’ll make it so good for you, all you’ve got to do is close your eyes.” She says, smirking at the lust in his eyes. She laughs when he quickly shuts his eyes. 

Harry reaches into her pocket and pulls out her gun, toying with the sides for a moment. “Open your eyes, babe. You’re getting what you deserve.” She whispers, pointing the gun at his head. Tears slowly start to run down her face, as she relishes the look of terror on his face as his eyes open.

She pulls the trigger, the kickback knocking her backwards a few feet. Crimson red blood splatters like a popped balloon onto the bed, the walls, and her face. Slowly, Harry raises a trembling hand and wipes it off, blood smearing across her cheek. She looks at Simon Cowell’s body, glancing at the bullet hole that sat in the middle of his forehead.

Back on her ship, a crinkled, agestained piece of parchment paper glows yellow, and a small, red check mark appears next to Trial 3.


End file.
